Some pilots choose to grow slowly from the skill level they acquired to earn the basic license, and they never venture beyond the confines of the standard envelope. Most, however, push that envelope, either for the personal challenge or for professional advancement

Most people with a passion for things automotive can remember a time in their youth when they steamed up a face-size oval on a local showroom's window while absorbing every curve and gleam of a must-have new car.

There's likely no finer V8 engine in car showrooms today than the 6.2-liter monster that propels the AMG version of Mercedes' newest E-class. The rising snarls and staccato twitches of the tach will curl the hairs on the back of your neck. It can drop-kick your rump down the highway with a savagery that the four-door body barely hints at.

ON A PROMO FOR DISCOVERY HD THEATER'S Chasing Classic Cars, host Wayne Carini tells viewers, "I chase cars," his wry expression suggesting he has heard the one about the dog that chases cars but can't figure out why when it catches one. Unlike the dog, Carini has a shrewd nose for which cars to chase and knows exactly what to do with one when he runs it to ground.

"Do you realize more people have been to outer space," sputtered my friend Dave, "than have driven that car?" Of all of the reactions I got when word leaked out I'd be testing the brand-new Bugatti Veyron 16.4 Grand Sport, his was my favorite. Dave's observation was closer to the truth than he realized.

Your smileage may differ, but in the eyes and ears of this beholder, no car packs quite the visual and sonic punch of the Aston Martin DBS. From its wide crouch, broad haunches and wraparound tail lights to the subtle flares, flows, channels and curves downwind from its hallmark pinched-corner grille, the DBS is a riveting spectacle from any angle.

One piece of eggshell can spoil the enjoyment of a whole omelet, and that's how it was with my evaluation of the all-new BMW 750Li. While the car I tested had only 3,000 miles on the odometer, they had been accrued at the hands, and perhaps the leaden pedal feet, of the press corps in the American West.